Shines One Year After
by bizoitz86
Summary: The subsequential events of Kingdom Hearts 2 lead to a carefree existence under one sky. The barriers have been breached, but only a few still acknowledge the true dangers of the Darkness. The natures of Light and Darkness revealed under a single sky...
1. Act 1, Chapter 1

Shines One Year After

Kingdom Hearts, Disney, Final Fantasy

ACT 1, _Writing a New Chapter_

_N__early one year ago, selected bands of individuals from respective worlds received a notice with King Mickey's insignia asking the recipients to participate in the collective breaching of the invisible barriers which closed off each world. The central focus of the letter acknowledged the still-looming threat of darkness and the victims that this entity claims. The letter elaborately included the studies of the darkness of the heart and the heart of the worlds written by the philosopher Ansem the Wise and his apprentices. The letter sharply rounded the issues of the darkness that still threatens many unfortunate people and elaborates the existence of the barriers which surround each world; the residents, who are shut off by these barriers, become easy prey for the Darkness, which is unrestrained by law and whose instinct to spread knows no limitation. The borders create a captive globe that is cornered and unable to call for help._

_With the breaching of the barriers, neighboring worlds may become beacons of light that purify the ill circumstance of their fellow kindred. This request was made in hopes of encouraging world trade and strengthening ties between neighboring worlds. Since the outside threat of the darkness was unavoidable in the worlds, it was decided that the breaches would not bring havoc upon the world order, but rather, the connection of each existence would promote universal balance. One sky will brighten with the new hope fueled by the fraternity of hearts, thus the Inter-Worldly Travel System was born._

_The world leaders breached the invisible walls and the light of anxious hearts wove together the paths that bridged the neighboring worlds and, with this process, strings of systems became connected. The patched 'bridges' allowed safe travel via capable vessels, and job opportunities such as public universal transportation, navigation and law enforcement surfaced for those who found themselves poor, homeless, or unemployed. Many worlds have also nominated a selected few of their residence as candidates to act as ambassadors and patrollers with the consent of their neighboring worlds._

_Though, for the most, the breach-and-bridge process prospered, there were also miscalculated reactions to the breach system. Worlds began to breach and bridge with one another without the knowledge, aid, or consent of their leaders and supervisors. The worlds connected on their own accord, unintentionally revealing paths to remote and uncharted areas, thereby arousing further discovery. This was reason for vexation; reason for investigation and reckoning. As of now, however, the operation and moderation of the system must be held in high priority. Panic is not welcomed. The fewest of individuals from a handful of united worlds have been conjured by the Executive Head of the Inter-Worldly Travel System to look into these mysterious mishaps…_

Chapter 1, _Shallow Whispers_

cue Destati-Dive Into the Heart, KH

Whispers silently tagged one another within the density of the blank atmosphere.

–_then you shall go of your own accord. Ask yourself if this is truly necessary to obtain what you seek, Av-----._

The source, as well as the identity and purpose, of the voices were unclear and could only treble deaf ears for the moment…

_Enough of that rabble woman…_

This voice released a chuckle from his girth.

_Did I not prove my resolve against you and yours? Knowledge is almighty—and true knowledge is only obtained though longevity and by the bold. This...is what I'm seeking; of this, I am sure._

_You are correct sir. Your resolve has proven itself against mine, but keep in mind that, as a society, we should only wish to aid one another in accomplishing our goals. We are your support; we are not each other's tool._

_Ha! Don't fret little woman. I have not forgotten the purpose of this fine establishment. On the contrary, I encourage it out right! Like the men of scholar, one pouring life and limb to aid her or his fellow, in the name of the greater resolve–This world shall became a part of something great; its sacrifice is __**not**__ in vain—in the name of science!_

fade Dive Into the Heart -Destati-

The voices faded into the still of the atmosphere. To what was conspiring within the concealment, there was no telling.


	2. Act 1, Chapter 2

Chapter 2, _Fend Against the Dark Assailant_

cue Strange Whispers, KH

The sky sundered, producing a coiling torrent of black matter which settled nigh twenty feet above the earth. The swirling dark bowel spewed a crimson-haired man from its maw. Head first, he spiraled from the tarred maw, and his body thoroughly bludgeoned the hard tile concrete. He lay motionless for passing seconds.

The setting, a quiet town endowed in night, was barely occupied. The only site of attraction in the restricted plaza comprised of a neon fountain which displayed two puppies nestling. The man forced himself to his feet.

The lot of contrary loiterers and straggling passersby glared blankly as the man steadily eased himself upward. He preserved an upright and stern posture as he brandished the hilt of his sheathed weapon. The pyre-headed man observed the audience which he had attracted; though his face was rigid with no signs of fatigue, the scrapes and bruises which he flourished proved otherwise.

The man stood at a fine height, above average. His physique proved lanky, but his stance complemented his small-medium build. He bore the appearance of a young man whom had thoroughly aged into maturity. His skin was olive-hued. Short, burning-red hair crested with velvet texture.

The plain long face of the sword wielder bore no definition in observing his whereabouts; his eyes, absent of pupils, seemed hollowed with white. The man's long, vividly indigo coat possessed excessively wide sleeve bottoms, and the worn iron scabbard he flaunted contained, by length, what seemed to be an o-katana. His lower body yielded common black slacks and black, hard-soled, ankle-top shoes.

Several black tears which the swordsman was ejected sundered the atmosphere, surrounding the jostled red head. The corridors of darkness spewed forth several creatures of varying shapes; several harbored an ink, sheen complexion; some donned a heart-shaped emblem, and brandished tin helmets and gauntlets endowed with red nails. They all comprised yellow, luminous eyes. These beings hosted a display of hostile intent, looming about the beaten man in indigo; their erratic stalk resembling a shrinking, rotating circle.

A young hoodlum retreated from his nonchalant position and screamed, "Heartless!" However irritable, respectable or miscreant the individuals of the lot may have seemed, the herald of a pedestrian resulted in a chain of seemingly premeditated reactions which were performed by the collective.

_Geezus, this day couldn't get any worse…someone call somebody about this!_

_Someone go notify District Six._

_Nah, sweetcakes. Call the hotel; tell 'em that Heartless are in the third district. They'll get in touch wit' someone quicker._

Some shamelessly left the scene; others were reluctant. Nonetheless, the entire few fled, leaving the beaten crimson warrior to the devices of the attackers. One of the Heartless pounced forward. The man countered ably.

With one swift motion, his unsheathed sword beat forward upon the assailing fiend with an impressive vigor. The Heartless disintegrated. His o-katana hailed no edge, just a rounded blunt surface which pounded into his malefactor with a snapping force. He sheathed, and took a nonchalant posture whilst awaiting the assault of his miscreant aggressors. His face showed no expression, and no clemency. The Heartless attacked collectively.

He unsheathed once again, accompanied this time by a strong grunt; his weapon bludgeoned down on his enemy. His sword hacked down. His sheath complemented with swipes and smashes of equal skill. The Heartless were vanquished; the swordsman sheathed and resumed his collected stance.

Another beast was excreted from the Dark Corridor; the large leech emblazoned the red barbed heart-shaped emblem. The Heartless towered over the warrior. The mauve, rotund body of Heartless brandished several large black lumps which quivered frequently. Its maw vigorously drilled into the earth of the district, and several luminous eyes decorated themselves above its mouth and around its body in circular fashion. It detained an overwhelmingly red aura. The warrior caressed the hilt of his sword. He flipped the guard upward with his thumb.

Seemingly detecting hostility, the black lumps leached from the body of the Leech Heartless. Twelve larvae, retaining the violent red aura from their parent, birthed from the detached corpuscles. They ensued. The swordsman countered to no avail. He was not able to defeat even one; his strikes contacted mightily, but did not daunt the drive of the Heartless in the least. The leeches leapt at him, sucking away at his vitality, and using their teeth to saw and grind with each leaping swipe; their violent natures and bright auras escalated with each successful strike. The parent leech continued to gyrate as it engrossed itself into the crust of the ground; its aura flickered with a gradual violence. The swordsman's face displayed no definition.

"Hold on, sonny!" A voice echoed from behind. A massive tremor complemented the approaching person. The entire twelve lesser leeches disintegrated under the supernatural force of the tremor and the aura of the skyscraping leech dispelled. With blurred vision, the swordsman turned to acknowledge the approaching figure who wielded a sledgehammer. The crimson-haired swordsman sheathed his weapon and collapsed.

cue Destati-Dive Into the Heart, KH

While unconscious, the swordsman dreamt. His subconscious mind revisited the black corridors.

_The darkness spiraled down the corridor. It enveloped the vision of the crimson haired man. He could still sense the engrossing darkness; his taste buds had been saturated. He could feel and he could barely hear over the roaring of the black vaporous torrents the movements of the company whom traversed the corridor. He could sense him, however; and as the presence drew near, its figure became distinguishable. The burly figure was draped in an open brown cleric robe. A hood shrouded his face, but he wore what seemed to be a white laboratory coat and black slacks underneath his robe._

_The robed figure stopped and stood pompously with his hands concealed in the innards of the pockets of his robe. He addressed the warrior in hiding, "Ah. Observant; you intend to gallantly fend the fate of the delicate tethers of that world—" his massive voice emerged deep from within his prestigious girth._

_The warrior replied whilst in the darkness of the realm, "I intend to collect your sins and condemn your existence to eternal despair."_

_The robed man chortled menacing and goaded, "Bluff. You're no saint. Come out vermin! I smell you; the rank of darkness and your saturation…"_

_The man in indigo revealed himself, "Your sins and you shall feel the beat of my edgeless brand; thus your existence will be cleansed, via obliteration."_

_"Come now! What would saints intend to do with __**that**__—" the giant man seemed to not be referring to the sword which the warrior wielded. The warrior acknowledged the allusion of the enigmatic figure; he was referring to the darkness which saturated the sanctimonious swordsman. The stout man progressed, "brazenly furnishing such double-edged weapon which you obviously don't intend to brandish."_

_The crimson man replied, "I carry these sins to belittle the efforts of the epidemic of cowardly men; cumbered by the worst of your vile sins, you shall in every respect behold my transcendence over malevolence. Victorious, emblazoned in the worst of your filthy petty sins, I shall erase the futile remains of your existence from the world. I am your imperfect judgment, Fallen Angelo, Heaven's Mercenary, Hyuda Kyaedu."_

_"Fallen Angelo—the winged species from the legendary kingdom of Heaven—forsaken by your said God? Ha __**ha**__! This is an awkward find indeed. I suppose you'd be pleased to know that I was once an avid analyst of the Good Book and its contradictious morals, but I haven't the time for reminiscence or your company, __Angelo__. A bit of knowledge to you, you have fallen from grace, therefore serve no God. If I have no right to that world—" The concealed identity indicated the foreshadowed town which Hyuda arrived, "—then you have no right to my audience." He elucidated, "You should throw your sense of justice to the wayside, and pretend this meeting never happened. Judgment passed; meeting adjourned."_

_Hyuda Kyaedu corrected, "Don't compare Our Mother to the estranged beliefs of your obscure mind. I no longer reside in Paradise; I __**never**__ resided in __Heaven__. I have Fallen, and by my transcendent jurisdiction upon you __malefactors__, I discard the forlorn sense of redemption. My only agenda is to brandish the sins of your Hell, and bestow a force upon you that is ten times the weight of it cumber. And even now, in my whore of a state, your likes are still of the __filth__ and __self-abolishment__ which is unfit to disgrace my presence. I shall carry all of evil with me to the Abyss, and thus attain __self__-redemption. All you need to know, all you shall know is at the mercy of __**this**__-__**blunt**__-__**edge**__."  
_

_The girth-strong man forced another chuckle to exhibit his hilarity, "Well, despite your 'whore of a state,' your logic proves to be more similar to the filth which you allude to." Luminous pupils pierce the dark depths and accompanied the brown-cloaked figure. "The filth which throws away its life at its smallest whimsy, whether it is of ego or id. Well, allow me to inform you that there is no justice here with me! Traverse Town's only significance whatsoever is to serve my hand, in the name of science!"_

_"Enough." Hyuda assailed his antagonist. He was struck down_.

Hyuda awoke to conversation, "Well, you did well anyways lass. No need in saying 'what if', you best be countin' your blessings that you didn't have to encounter him yourself."

"All the same, the worm got away, and if I coulda finished it, that bastard woulda been weakened…"

He was reclined within a meager-sized bed which resided within a cozy one-room building. He was absent his coat revealing his long burgundy shirt which was usually veiled. His long coat and scabbard were tidily placed beside him. It was dark in the room; dim light made intercourse with the room's umbra. The room was a plain clutter; books and tools littered one of the corner spaces of the room while candles and stained dining wares humbly emblazoned another. The ceiling fan produced a light healing wind.

"He's awake." A tall burly woman sat Indian-style beside the bed. She greeted Hyuda cheerfully, "Howdy, stranger!"

The tall profile of a man in black stood clad in the shade of the only clutter-free corner. The mature figure spoke with a heavy and prominent accent, "Don't get up." Hyuda sat up regardless. The man continued, "We're in the smallest house in District Three. You should recognize this place since you were well-observant of your setting. The police have come and gone, and every trace of you n' the Heartless were cleaned up before they arrived. Except for the huge _dent_ you made when you descended from the sky. That was unfixable. You ought to be more considerate. All in all, you've been rescued by one of my long-ago students…" He indicated the woman at bedside.

She nervously chuckled, "Hehe! No matter how I try to make a name for m'self, I'll always think of myself as your student."

The woman rose from her position and introduced herself casually, "I'm Blacksmith, trainer of many smiths and forgers in this part of space. You were banged up quite nice, but nothing I couldn't fix." Hyuda ascended from the small bed. He gathered his belongings and stretched his limbs to examine the severity of his condition. He found himself well enough. Blacksmith chuckled dumbfounded and rambled, "I'm retired for the most, but I remain open here for the time. I am a rock for some of my students who lose their way. It's a quiet job in a quiet town, and I come and go as I please."

"Aye—" the male enigma withdrew himself from the wall, revealing his appearance. His pork pie hat crowned his carrot-top, round shades concealed his bearded face, and a dauntless trench coat stole his entire body from sight. He introduced, "—and I am the Munny Collector, alias the Debt Collector alias the Gil Master. I'd declare this a pleasure to be acquainted, but I feel that this acquaintanceship is not by chance."

Hyuda fit his coat overhead and equipped his sword and sheath. He gave a few blatant glares toward his two hosts and then shamelessly proceeded towards the door.

The Munny Collector smiled and elucidated, "So…you couldn't defeat the brawly, clerical robed man which threatened Traverse Town from the Black Depths." His message halted Hyuda, and achieved his direct, sharp, and intentive leer.

The Munny Collector's sermon smugly trailed whilst he dauntingly approached Hyuda, "—but…I doubt anyone within ten stars' radii could smite the said assailant; he is indeed intent on feeding on a world. Yep, it's around that time…" His glance averted Hyuda while bowed his head to remove his pork pie. The Munny Collector slung his hat on the bed and addressed Hyuda personally, alluding to Hyuda's confrontation with the shrouded man in the Dark Corridor, "You will never truly _purge_ the darkness. Whether with all of you previous prestige, or in your current 'whore of a state,' you haven't the means to wholly defeat the originators of sin, let alone critically blow the nature of the Dark Assailants. The darkness, the Heartless, will spread until the universe in its entirety returns to Kingdom Come. The only salvation of our realm is the Keyblade." The gil master gradually extended his right arm forward, over Hyuda's corresponding shoulder. Hyuda's face hardened and his left thumb caressed the hilt of his edgeless brand. The face of the alleged debt collector wielded a vacant expression. His palm outstretched. He mustered a flash of light which swiftly took form behind Hyuda's head. Hyuda acknowledged the manifestation behind his neck. Hyuda's thumb diverted from his weapon's hilt. Hyuda's glance did not avert from the abysmal lens of the Munny Collector's shades. Hyuda's face showed no definition.

The brazen collector recalled manifestation which exuded itself behind Hyuda's head; it shattered into bits of light, and gradually and entirely dispersed. The Munny Collector withdrew his arm and retreated a few steps from Hyuda. He chuckled jeeringly, before warmly pressing on, "The Keyblade which purges the hearts taken by malevolence and persuasion, the Keyblade which chooses its bearer...so, it is not _you_ who will _purge_ the world of this pestilence, I assure it. You claim the titles 'judge' and 'mercenary,' both titles bear ethics which excuse you to align yourself neutrally while conflict inclines. You are not in a position to purge the world by being 'neutral.' The only hand you'll play in collecting the world's sin is through the will of said Keyblade Bearer. Perhaps, you could find your 'Ultimate Self-Redemption' along that path."

Hyuda queried, "Through the Keyblade, can any fiend be slain? Must I wield the Keyblade Bearer to purge the world's sins?"

"With the aid of the Keyblade, many things become possible. The shrouded man you encountered in the corridor of night is known as **Avonej** **Hart**, a brilliant madman who uses the darkness to reveal entry to the hearts of worlds. Accessing the cores of worlds, and absorbing their life energies, Avonej attains a spring well of longevity. Avonej is a **parasite** **to** **existence**. This method has permitted his survival for multiple epochs. He wields both force and knowledge from time elapsed. Without question, all of the 'sin' you acquire from and wield against your enemies is a baby to Avonej and his ranks…but—you say you want to slay the fiends of the world..."

Hyuda responded stoically, "I do. And…"

"Well then laddie…I'd say that in defeating Avonej Hart, you would be eradicating one of the world's great fiends. And with that, I'd have to challenge you Nameless Judgment; Hyuda Kyaedu, _203th_ _Family_…" the Munny Collector removed the stress from his face and smirked convincingly, "are you surprised about how much I know?"

"It doesn't matter how you know of my name. It doesn't matter who you are."

"Aye, I figured—none of this matters. All that matters is that sin must be abolished before the world is full with it."

"The world is already _full with sin_."

"Then, my stoical acquaintance, I'm afraid that your time has long been up then. You must _swiftly_ submit yourself to the judgment of the Keyblade, and endure its wielders privations."

"Are you not a Key Blader?"

The Munny Collector replied bluntly, "Do you see a key?"

"Fair. Then release me from your audience, and allow me to seek this Key Blader."

"Oh, you won't have to go too far _young_ _man_…" the gil master laughed; his jeer would seemingly question Hyuda's age.

The Munny Collector reassured, "Just follow you gut-instinct…I sense a change in the winds."

fade Destati-Dive into the Heart


	3. Act 1, Chapter 3

Chapter 3, _To Traverse Dreams_

cue Hand in Hand, KH

Two Gummi Ships of the _Kingdom_ model raced frantically towards the rare empty parking space in the steadily outstretching lot of ships and transports. The Inter-Worldly Travel System at its pinnacle–the high-speed system that allowed free travel from world-to-world was described by many as the salvation of this age.

_This system was made for the users by the users. The freedom to ride the horizons and unite under one sky! To infinity, and beyond…_

_- donate to Project Star Command_

The cheesy slogan that was overly posted upon every world entry and exit in every corner of the Gummi Galaxy said it all. Sure, it was simple enough to dwell upon the burdens of this developing giant. After all, traveling around the universe _could_ put a small dent in the pockets, and it was unbelievable how atrocious everyone's piloting skills were; apparently, the Department of Gummi Vehicles was handing licenses to pre-schoolers. Surprisingly, there were rarely any wrecks on the pathways, but when there was, the oh-so-lovely traffic congestions became a routine experience to say the least.

Adored or detested, the travel system was the most revolutionary and convenient entity since sliced bread. The freedom to leave all of your troubles behind you and travel to brand new worlds to start anew; these were the things that dreams were made of. So why was it so hard to find a parking space?

A series of drawn rectangular spaces traversing upon the outstretching patterns of tiled concrete seemed so much more to the two combatants of the parking lot. That parking space was the land that would mark their arrival into a place of revived wonder and adventure–and as of now, one of these racers would have his hopes of exploration and pioneering taken away. The loser of dreams would have to submit to the victor. The fast-paced race towards the space would proceed to closure.

"Eh?! Jackpot!" A sleek, ivory-shaded Gummi Ship from above smugly plummeted into the wanted space, much to the chagrin of the two racers. The two unfortunates could only swear vigorously on their intercoms at the bubble-shaped, custom-modeled ivory Gummi Ship from the safety of their _Kingdoms_. The indecent words, however, may have been muffled from the ears of the bubble ship pilot, with the hissing of his Engine Gummi and the smoothness of the light jazz that played from his mp3 player. Even with the enjoyment of jazz, and the engine hiss, which gradually lessened until it completely stopped, the driver most likely had a good idea of how the two parking-spaceless pilots were feeling. The bickering of grown men was a common sound of the travel system era.

"Sorry?" The unsure voice of the young man over his intercom barely protruded the verbal thrashing.

"Hey! You! That was _my_ spot, you jerk!!"

"Jesus Christ…" rang the ivory ship's com. De-equipping his music, and gathering his travel belongings, the pilot proceeded out from his ship and came a step closer towards a grand adventure in the infinite yard of Gummies and angry grown men. The latches of the ivory ship hatch cracked open and the hatch slowly lowered until making contact to the ground.

"–you little rat bastard!! What's the big idea?!"

The pilot stepped out. He was somewhat tall, definitely above average height. From head to toe, he was draped by a sleek ivory over-robe. Barely revealed black-colored jeans slouched over his dirty white tennis shoes. His face barely made an appearance, as his head was covered by the hood of his baggy cloak. Furthermore, the bangs of his shaggy white, black-highlighted hair poured and sprouted messily out of the hood of his coat and over his forehead and face. From what was visible of the pilot's face, revealed a young man. The curvature of his mouth and unusually pale skin brought the expression of unrest to his disposition. Drowsy bloodshot brown eyes pierced out to the two disgruntled _Kingdom_ model pilots through the bangs of hair.

"Look, you've gotta be aggressive to win here--" the young pilot shrugged and smirked. He taunted with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "and I guess you two just don't cut the proverbial mustard…I'm sure there are _plenty_ other spaces to park." The young man pulled a 'Gummi Key' from his coat pocket and pressed the alarm button.

_Erk-erk!_ The bubble-shaped ship sounded, indicating the activation of the alarm.

"By the way," the white-clad man indicated to his ship, "if any of you touch _Cuppa Joe_, you'll regret having fingers...Amen?" The words cryptically danced from the tongue of the young man draped in ivory. The pilot nonchalantly departed the company of the other two, and made his way towards the horizon of the lot.

"Why you little punk! Who the _hell_ do you think you are anyway!?"

The young pilot turned back to hear the still-running engines of the unhappy souls that were destined to wait for someone to leave the lot before parking.

He sighed and readdressed his misfortunate acquaintances, "Okay...since I basically crushed your dreams of--" he 'quoted' with finger gestures, "--_surveying the lands flowing with milk and honey_..." he raked his fingers through his bangs, spiking his hair upward and unleashing his insane eyes of bloodshot and bags upon the shocked pilots of the _Kingdoms_, "Java Black. I prefer 'J', and if I hear so much as a chuckle, I will hunt you down and 'make bacon out of pigs' if you know what I mean." Java released the locks of hair, allowing them to once again cover his weary eyes. He continued towards the horizon, softly adding, "–and don't test me. I don't sleep..."

Not a sound came from the two hovering ships that watched J walk towards the hallow grounds of a bright and exciting world. One of the _Kingdom_ coms protruded the silence that had been promoted by Java's enlightenment,

"There goes my dream of starting a new business..."

"It's not over yet! I'm not gonna let some snot-nose punk crush my hopes! Just you wait, sir! In a couple hours or more, there _will_ be a parking space!"

"And I'll be here with ya buddy!"

"Hand in hand!"

"Side by side!"

"Onward to Traverse Town!!"

fade Hand in Hand


	4. Act 1, Chapter 4

Chapter 4, _Embarking with Wings of Silver_

cue Traverse Town, KH

The world door to Traverse Town, splintering planks of fashioned hardwood hinged with stained iron latches, was quite a door indeed. Aside from the constant chatter and commotion of an abundance of busy-body tourists, and the eternal slam and creek of wood, the Traverse Town door also found the attention of droves of 'entrepreneurial' merchants equipped with rinky-dink sales stands which featured everything from household appliances to cold, fresh lemonade.

Nearly ten meters in front of the Traverse Town Entry, a smoothly paved outstretching strip of asphalt awaited the arrival of the infamous _Charter_, one of now many, the choice transportation for those who do not own or can not afford their own run-of-the-mill Gummi Ship. The _Charter_ route, the scheduled arrivals and departures of a series of specialized Gummi models that collected and dispatched passengers from one charted world to the next, was specifically developed as a cheap source of transportation for people of misfortune and low income. As the Grand Ambassador of this fine travel system stated, televised world-wide and quoted by _Kupo Daily_ newsletter:

_"Everyone needs a helping hand. And we can all pitch in and work the bugs out together. Let's truly make leaving are hardships and reachin' out to the stars something real, and not something costly."_

Additional information can be found on posters and pamphlets at any _Charter_ stop.

_The Charter! Reaching out to the stars_

_The first and most reliable model of Public Gummi Transportation. Gain wings of silver and experience what it is really like to ride the winds._

_Provided by_ **Wishing Star©**

_Sponsored by_ Mognet, Moogle Synthesis, and **Cait Stop**

_All Donations will support_ Project Star Command _and_ Moogle Synthesis

_Hours: 600-2200_

_**Traverse Town**_

_To Rock Point_

_700, 900, 1100, 1500, 1700, 1900, 2100_

_To Stardust Sweep_

_800, 1000, 1200, 1400, 1800, 2000_

_60 passengers' seats total, two to each seat_

_Maximum Capacity: 120 passengers_

As usual, the _Charter_ arrived at its stop in front of Traverse Town in a timely fashion, raring to dump off yet another blasé load of other-world visitors of the various lot: the sight-seeing passengers, the miscreant bus urchins, the hopeless romantic dreamers, the etceteras.

"Alright people! We're here...get off," barked the abrasive dog-faced bus driver. Amongst the diverting passengers slouched a young female bus leech. The young woman exited the bus jading a loose cerulean jacket, in which she snugly huddled herself, her hands deeply buried in the coat pockets. Semi-baggy, khaki-colored slacks loosely hugged her waist, and grungy black sneakers sheltered her feet. She was a 'shorty', maybe juggling just around five feet (over one and one half meters) in height, and though she exhibited a modest choice of attire, _when_ she chose to stop scowling, she could have been considered quite the cute young lady for a "bus urchin," or an "alley cat of the _Charter_," a term used universally and made renowned by one infamous bus urchin. The young woman's hair was a shaggy mid-length, and produced short untidy front bangs that had the potential to be somewhat frustrating if she had plans to style her hair. Her coarse woolen locks were tied by a cute red elastic band into a ponytail. Her hair and eyes were both a lighter wintry shade of blue. All of that, in a small-and-neat package, quickly jutted from the crowd exiting the famed gummi bus.

"Hey--" a passenger screamed. He was a rather pale and portly gent with cheeks that nearly hid his eyes. He donned comfortably in a black short-tailed tuxedo and robed in a fine furred overcoat–a real aristocrat this one. He proceeded to yell out, "My wallet! Somebody's taken my wallet!!" Our tiny package could not help but give a slight wince in secret. Inching closer towards Traverse Town's gate entry, the girl instinctively slowed her pace to that of a casual passerby to avoid suspicion.

"This travel system is just another breeding ground for little reprobate juveniles!!! I'll get to the bottom of this–I'll sue this compan--" The large man continued his relentless rant. The short Ms. was almost home free; not only did Traverse Town harbor mindless tourist junkies, it also harbored _unsuspecting_ mindless tourist junkies that were routinely preyed upon by a considerable amount of poor and wretched pillagers and looters of the alleyways–she would fit right into the lot. Neither the tourists nor the looters were ready for the rebel with the snow-blue hair...

"HEY GABS!" The dingy blonde hair and head of a young urchin boy popped out of the bus window, conspicuously pointing to the seemingly slick pilferer lady urchin. "THEY KNOW YOU DID IT!! RUN! RUN GABS!!"

_That little four foot bastard! Sold me out!!_ The nearly home-free lady swiftly turned back in pure disbelief at the kid urchin. The dupe passenger turned his heavy head towards 'Gabs' and erupted in a swearing rage.

"Someone–someone **catch that** _little_ whoremonger!! That rapscallious wench has pilfered my billfold!!" The lumpy fig of a man danced and wailed, indicating Gabs.

Gabs cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted out at the smirking lad who hung from the _Charter_ window, "HEY KID!! YOU BETTER WATCH YOUR LITTLE _SS_!! Cuz, I'm gonna **own** it if I ever see it again!! You hear me?!!" and bolted into a crew of people embarking upon Traverse Town's humble-but-adequate shelter.

"Is anybody going to **stop** her?!!" No one lifted a finger to aid the plump gentleman. Everyone else was too busy going in their own directions; the tourists were toured; the vendors vended; the officers at the door lazily observed the masses of people that went and came. All the poor fat sap could do was walk ill-heartedly into town, hoping for the chance to lay hands on the young wench that stole his wallet.

"I guess he could always look for a job now," chuckled a young male urchin on the back seats of the _Charter_. Some young 'alley cats' harmoniously chortled at the misfortunes of the lewd and obese man. The blonde boy slumped back into to bus.

"That'll fix her good..." the young blonde smirked, raising his window completely with satisfaction smeared across his face.

"That was a pretty low move you pulled on Gabrianna though Scoots–" said an adolescent female red-head, "–as a matter a fact–why did you do that to her anyways?"

A younger squirt seconded, "Yeah!!! The Gabs was total coolness. Why Scoots?"

Scoots slouched into the corner of his seat and shamelessly crossed his arms. "I wanted ta pilfer that ol' porker..." The leery and disappointed glares from his peers unnerved Scoots' usually-shrewd boldness, "Gol-lee...geez ya wet blankets!! I knew she was gonna get away anywhos..." Still silence, "I was just giving her a go...oh, whadda _you_ binjies know anywhos!" The next wave of passengers boarded, and the _Charter_ departed for its next destination.

Java saw the departing _Charter_ from a little less than one kilometer off into the distance. He continued to make the trek towards the world passage into Traverse Town from the faraway land of the parking lot.

"That was by far, the longest walk to a God-forsaken town of _Trans-verse_–" Java mocked and mumbled to himself; a calamity of noise and bodies drew nearer with each step. Java stopped briefly, stretching a few yawns out from deep within his lungs before proceeding forth. "Perhaps, I _should have_ parked a little closer...Bah! I need a drink." One more yawn escaped between words. "That "_Geppetto's Java_" better have some damn good coffee." Java pressed onward.


	5. Act 1, Chapter 5

Chapter 5, _"What's Your Hurry Young Lady?" Lost in Digression_

cue Traverse Town, KH

Behold Traverse Town's First District in its abundant glory; a modest slew of finely polished shiftlessness; flashy neon signs and street lamps that slumber dreamlessly underneath the perennial starlit night. The town has recently gained recognition as a place of historical importance. Built and annexed from various remains of worlds claimed by the darkness, Traverse Town homed and sheltered many lost-world refugees. Still, the citizens and immigrants have somehow managed to sluggishly maintain a fair governing amongst themselves, and house many unfortunates. So obviously, many native and adoptive people of this town rejoiced with the development of the travel system, and welcomed the arrival of other world visitors and the opportunity to travel and start elsewhere.

The architecture of Traverse Town ascertained nothing less than the authentic dexterity of a carpenter from an erstwhile century. The first district lodged various places of adequacy, as well as the attention of the many visitors and refugees. Thus, the first district was considered Traverse Town's place of daily activity. Adjacently left upon entering the town gates, there stood a small café that hid a series of dimly candle-lit, round tables-for-two underneath a cozy veranda area, convenient for those who enjoy casual and romantic lounges and conversations. The small square lightly included a pair of modest trees and benches, several entries into the outer districts and alleyways of Traverse Town, and an awkward, slanting mailbox. A goods shop, a two-story accessory and item workshop, and a short and wide staircase ascending towards the elevated back portion of the area centered off the crowded district. Rounding off the district leaned a rather homely home of pale green and yellow, and an old sheltered wooden display case that has been claimed by various merchants and dealers.

The first district site that attracted the most attention as of recent was the goods shop; a sale was being held on travel equipment and Tupperware so the shop had been fairly busy up until now. Amongst the floating crowd, the Grand Ambassador of the Inter-Worldly Travel System himself approached the goods shop. Most could recognize him from television and other media sources, and many people seemed to know him personally, but most were just admirers or people that would ultimately make attempts to bum munny off of him. The ambassador was also considered one of the richest men alive, practically heading Traverse Town.

The Grand Ambassador was an older fellow, but he would say that he is "as spry as any spring duckling." He wore a blue formal over-jacket with red hems and stitches, and a black top hat over his white slick feathers. A small pair of round reading glasses snugly lay on his bill, and a graying beard and whiskers lay around it. Cufflinks of diamond shone lustrously from each wrist as he flaunted a fine ebony walking cane.

The ambassador reached the goods shop entry and proceeded to turn the doorknob. Instantaneously, the door flung open, nearly taking the arm of the startled ambassador with it. A lovely young woman toting a mid-size forest green accessory bag brimming with grooming products, and several magazines and reading material dashed out from the shop, almost clashing into the Grand Ambassador. The young woman mirrored the ambassador's shock with her own expression of startle.

"Whoa dere lass!" The ambassador addressed, chuckling. She struggled to an abrupt stop, exhibiting a humiliated expression on her face. His voice mustered friendliness as he spoke, "What's your hurry young lady? You nearly put this old duck down for tha count."

"So sorry Grand Ambassador McDuck–" the young lady apologized with a gentle voice and a short bow, barely clinging onto her travel bag with both hands. "I'm just ready to get away from this place–sooo busy today!"

The girl stood fairly tall and with good posture. Her figure was healthy, not extremely slim, but not at all too thick, and was complemented by her light, flushing skin tone. Her olive and brunette blend of hair glistened vibrantly, flowing nearly down to the small of her back. Folded near her right ear was a red flower. Her face still wore a slight grin of abashment, but her large, milky, blue eyes were more than enough to calm the disquieted ambassador. A pink choker and silver chain and heart charm decorated her neck. On her left hand gripped a tight forest green leather glove, and a gold bracelet with a diamond shape emblazoned her left arm. Her white dress cozily fit her and lengthened down just above mid-thigh. A mahogany bow and an arrow-filled quiver hung behind her, slung from across her shoulders. She sported a pair of smoothly tan "Enchanted Boots" which she had recently purchased from the goods shop for seventy-five percent off plus worker's discount, to replace some older, worn footwear.

"Oh, you're fine Sebrea, and please–call me Scrooge," Scrooge smiled and beckoned to her. Sebrea crouched down to ear-level and Scrooge whispered comically, "If I were in your shoes lass, I'd high-tail it as far away from this mad house as possible, and never return."

Sebrea and Scrooge released light laughter in unison. Scrooge sighed and cheerfully shrugged, "Unfortunately, I can't...I hafta make sure business is runnin' well in town," Sebrea rose to standing position and Scrooge gained a few steps towards the shop entry, "I enjoy lookin' at people makin' munny for me too much. Imagine that...but I hope you enjoy the rest of tha day Miss Sebrea–oh–and is everything in town doing well for ya," Scrooge asked with a soft smile whilst adding, "I hope you're enjoyin' tha goods shop crew's company as much as everyone else is enjoyin' _yours_."

"Hai! I'm very grateful. This job is much better than any other job I've had, and everyone's been so nice." Sebrea cheerfully nodded, "but I'm sure you're busy Mr. Scrooge. I won't hold you any longer sir."

Scrooge gave an airy chuckle, "Heh–you're sweet–you're not holdin' me from anything child. As lazy as this town is, it's good for an old crow like me ta just simmer down some."

"And besides," a voice escaped from the collar of Scrooge's jacket. A small figure leaped out and onto Scrooge's shoulder. The figure continued with a slightly disgruntled tone, "we're kinda on the lookout for Scrooge's _absent-minded_ nephew. I'd like to know what's gotten into that duck! If we keep this up, we'll be late for sure!"

Sebrea giggled and replied, "I think Donald has wandered off into the Second District as usual, Mr. Cricket–"

"Now what did Scrooge tell you about being so formal–" the cricket shook his finger and playfully scolded Sebrea. "Call me 'Jiminy' please." Jiminy dusted off a miniature tuxedo coat, which he wore conventionally, and then removed his tiny top hat from his tiny head, and gave it a thorough dusting.

"Ok then, _Jiminy_; Mr. Scrooge; good luck finding little Donald." Sebrea bowed, quickly bobbing her head down and back up.

"Enjoy yourself lass–off wit ya!" Scrooge playfully dismissed.

"–and remember–don't work too hard! All work 'n no play makes for long faces and dreary eyes!" Jiminy added.

Sebrea nodded and parted ways with the two gents, departing from the shop and stepping into the blithe of wandering hoi polloi.

"There's a good lass; so polite and well-mannered..." Scrooge commented to Jiminy while trailing off into the goods shop.

"Not too mention her good posture--" Jiminy indicated before the goods shop door shut behind the two.

An exhausted Sebrea, struggling with her weighty bag, made her way towards the renowned Geppetto's Java after another day's work. _Well, thank goodness the coffee shop is closed today. I don't think I could last another minute's work...I may have had to fake sick!_ Sebrea thought to herself, pacing towards one of the small wooden tables underneath the café veranda.

Sebrea usually considered the time she took to walk from the goods shop to the café as a break from working two jobs, so she didn't mind taking her time while walking. After all, clerking at the shop was tiresome enough, but bartending in Geppetto's Java while keeping an eye on that mischievous slacker, Pinnochio was more than a handful of work. Sebrea figured that working two jobs would keep her busy while she was out on her quest. Also, she enjoyed the kindness of her co-workers and the munny was looking good. Aside from the rare and enjoyable benefit of employee discounts, and free coffee and soda floats from Mr. Geppetto's café, Ambassador Scrooge was generous indeed to those on the payroll and she had worked in far worse places for far less pay...she had to pay for travel somehow. Traverse Town was a good place to chill, perfect for Sebrea at the moment; she preferred to be in a place where she could marinate while recollecting her thoughts and emotions, and this controversial town was practically made for restarting and beginning anew; but then again, so much chilling and restarting could eventually wear Sebrea out and put her to sleep.

As Sebrea drowsily observed folks sitting at the clusters of tables, she dreamily waltzed underneath the chipping veranda of Geppetto's Java. She became instantly alert, however, when she realized that she was falling fast on her behind.

'_Oof!_' An explosion of color fled from Sebrea's bag and onto the tiled earth: books and magazines of reds, yellows, and blues, a pink toothbrush, a conspicuous shard of grey metal, various pieces of shimmering rocks and shells...green and golden munny. Everything met the ground; and the ground was indeed hard. Sebrea's sudden plop added more pain to her caboose and already-aching back and bones. Sebrea sat up with a cringe. Her eyes searched around the cozy veranda for the exact person, place or thing that could have caused the fall, and instantly met the source: another young woman on the ground.

The other young woman sat up angrily with both hands securing her forehead, which was flushed from impact, no less from the heavy bag of Sebrea's. She was a lot shorter than Sebrea, and probably younger; Sebrea had recently celebrated a nineteenth birthday. The shorter female wore comfortably loose khaki-colored pants, and a blue jacket. Snow blue bangs strung over her still-rubbing hands and forehead. Sebrea thought about reaching out and apologizing for her inattentiveness, but was abruptly interrupted.

"Sht–" Gabrianna hissed, rubbing her forehead. Both women pulled themselves up from the ground and dusted themselves off.

"Dang it!" Gabrianna writhed, and, still cringing and stroking her blushing forehead, barked spitefully, "watch where you're goin' floozy..." Gabrianna's abrasive words struck Sebrea, who flushed with embarrassment. With no response, a flustered Sebrea proceeded to kneel down and recover her belongings. While picking up her surplus of trinkets and items, Sebrea noticed the young girl aiding her, and smiled lightly. Quietly and wearily, she addressed the blue-haired lady while placing an _Archery Monthly_ magazine into her sack, "Thank you–hard day's work...I should have been paying more attention to–"

"_Whatever_ lady–" Gabrianna disregarded, retrieving a number of bath towels and tubes of toothpaste. Gabrianna hesitated, and then addressed, "–look, it's no biggy. I wasn't paying too much attention either." Gabrianna figured that the incident seemed inadvertent enough. Within a couple of minutes, Sebrea's possessions were returned to her carrying bag.

Sebrea bobbed gratefully, "Sorry again–and thank you." Sebrea apologized with slight disorientation. She had still been shaken up from her work, startling Mr. Scrooge, falling, and everything else about the day. Gabrianna gave Sebrea a glance from head-to-toe and gave a slight mocking chortle.

"Aren't you chilly wearing that skimpy dress? Well, it's not _that_ cold here, but still–" Gabrianna smirked, looking down at Sebrea's exposed legs, "I mean, wow...showing off those _knobby_ knees, aren't we?"

Gabrianna laughed jeeringly and walked off towards the goods shop. Sebrea blushed again, looking down at her knees, "Knobby?" Sebrea shrugged to herself and victoriously approached a vacant table that rested near the café door. She sighed as she plopped down into the wooden chair, and admired the melting candle that dimly lit the tabletop. Sebrea rested on the table, tucking her head in the warmth of her folded arms.

_Okay, it should be around 4:30 PM. So–around eight, I'll head to the hotel and call it a day, and then...day off!!_ Sebrea thought to herself as she drifted away from the surrounding bustle, and into tranquil thought. It had only been five days since she made it to Traverse Town, and just look at her. Traverse Town was running her ragged. The only reason she saw to stay was the diversity of the crowd. Finding the answers to her questions was Sebrea's top priority at the moment, and she had no real Plan B. _Traverse Town is full of different–no..._Sebrea's thoughts began to contradict themselves, _everyone that comes to this town is the same–peacock tourists looking to buy souvenirs, snap pictures, and heckle Mr. Scrooge for money whenever he visits._ It felt hopeless to linger in Traverse Town, but Sebrea had dug a hole for herself. _Good job, nice co-workers, great shopping_. She sighed and slowly shut her eyes. _I miss home…I miss Gii-san._ Sebrea drifted into a dreamless slumber.


	6. Act 1, Chapter 6

Chapter 6, _"What's Your Hurry Young Lady?" The Geeky Rebel_

cue Traverse Town, KH

Gabrianna smirked as she drifted from the café veranda and towards the goods shop. Gabrianna pulled her hand from her jacket pocket and unveiled a full wad of green bills which she admired smugly. She had already convinced herself that she was genius from the 'porker heist,' and now she had successfully executed a casually planned bump-and-pilfer.

"Honey was _definitely_ loaded. Just as much as that fat bastard..." Gabrianna said with a confident simper, fondling each paper bill in her hand, "Wonder why she doesn't go and buy any decent clothes with all her _moola_…instead of dressin' like a _fairy child_…" Gabrianna entered the goods shop, stolen munny in hand.

The shop interior was spacious; a slowly circulating fan at the ceiling, a counter in the far corner, and not much more. The merchandise was all held in polished oak shelves and open cupboards. Conveniently, Gabrianna entered during a stall in service. Very few customers waited for assistance. Three people ran the counter overall. The first cashier was a rather intimidating sight; the stocky fellow brandished grayish straight hair, a grumpy expression, and a variety of burns and bruises on his face and arms stood. In contrast, a tiny pig-tailed blonde lady heavily draped in full dress and apron ran the second register. Lastly, a tall and rather scrawny gentleman with an excellent posture and fine attire tended to the shelf and cabinet merchandise. Any others in the store were either loitering or inspecting the merchandise. Scrooge and Jiminy sat in conversation with several customer familiars.

Gabrianna playfully skipped towards the counter, and delivered a sappy eye-closing grin to the stocky grouch at the register. The face of the grey-haired brawn showed no definition in response to Gabrianna's heavy grin. Eventually, the rough cashier replied to the giddy-faced Gabs with a scoff, "I hope yer not 'ere fer troublin' again…"

"Only as much trouble as everyone blames me for–" Gabrianna stated, allowing her hard grin and eyebrows to morph into a smart-aleck's face of mockery and sarcasm. She plopped both elbows onto the counter and leaned in wait, head resting on both supporting hands. Gabrianna frivolously addressed, "How's it going my rugged chum?" A small silence commenced before she refrained from her digression, "Um–I placed an order for a _sweet-assed_ pole weapon–and now I have the dough for it, so...yeah baby!"

"I know, I remember, cuz I'm the one who built the order!" The cashier grumbled; he remained motionless, and bore a searing hole into Gabrianna's face with his callous eyes.

Gab's face reverted to her irritated scowl, and she scoffed whilst leaning over the counter and into the cashier's face, "So–you gonna sit here, and eye-fck me all day?! Well then?! Where is it, _ss_?! I've been busting my butt scroungin' up munnies to pay for this baby!" By now, Gabs had attracted the lot of the remaining customer's attention. The cashier proceeded to burn a hole with his eyes in the face of the fiery Gabs, but only momentarily.

"Hmm…" Scrooge, along with the other eyes, pondered to themselves over the commotion.

"Hmph…I wonder what's eating her." The words slipped too hastily from Jiminy's mouth and dripped downward.

From her peripheral, Gabrianna shot a horrific glance towards the absent-worded cricket. Words cryptically jutted from Gabrianna's tongue that caused the room to freeze with awkwardness, "I thought crickets only chirped…but I guess this cricket has a big effin--"

The gruff cashier intruded Gab's speech with a submissive sigh. He yelled back at the scrawny young man who laid against the wall sleepily beside the shelved merchandise, "**Scotty!!**"

The scrawny man violently fidgeted in response to the dream-shattering yell. Scotty yawned, as the cashier continued, "Order Three Hund'd Thirdy-Six!! Now!!" Scotty silently gained his composure, and reached into one of the open cupboards. He retrieved and delivered a lengthy halberd to the straight-haired cashier; the weapon was taller than Gabrianna. The pole was of a fine tan wooden polish, and the spear head was a fine-length, jagged crystalline blade of an aquamarine color that bore a pronging blade birthing from the base of the blade side of the head.

The cashier forcefully dismissed Scotty from the counter and, with his eyes, bore a deeper hole into the center of Gabrianna's forehead. "Happy?" the cashier reluctantly smirked presenting the spear.

"Hells yeah," Gabs grinned, snatching the spear from the cashier's hard hands. "_The Mythril Spear_–I can _definitely_ whoop ss with this," she held the halberd upright and gazed at the long pole with admiration. "Thanks Bantuk. Smell ya around, 'kay!" Gab waved and proceeded out with a skip.

"Ahem!" Gabrianna halted in her tracks as the gruff Bantuk strongly cleared his throat. "What's your hurry young lady?" Bantuk sternly addressed, left hand outstretched, and cash register chiming. "That'll be two thousan' sixy munny _wit' the sale discount_."

Gabrianna taunted with a 'boo', and handed him the correct munny. "Thankies!" Gabs grinned while hugging her newly purchased Mythril Spear. She slowly back stepped toward the door.

Bantuk scornfully replied while recounting her sum, "Prob'ly stole the munnies ta buy it in the first!"

"Hey! Be happy I paid for it!" Gabrianna scoffed, and exited ecstatically with her Mythril Spear.

From there, Gabs cautiously blended in with the district masses, pick-pocketing and pilfering the occasional trinket or wallet until her pocketing led her into the Second District. _Beware the Geeky Rebel_; the words echoed in her mind, and influenced her actions. She figured that she could pilfer a couple more pockets before the next _Charter_ arrived–or she could wait for the _Charter_ that came after the next if she wanted. With the Mythril Spear as her 'backup man,' the Gabs was ready to take on the cold and uncaring worlds. Things were looking up–who could stop the self-proclaimed "Geeky Rebel?"


	7. Act 1, Chapter 7

Chapter 7, _Seek Refuge or End the Seek_

cue It Began with a Letter, KH

"Finally! Thank God!" Java triumphantly sighed, standing just a few meters from the Traverse Town entry, "–back in this forsaken spit o' land, huh? Welp…Coffee, I have arrived!!"

Java stood amongst the hoopla of entering and exiting masses, the constant annoyance of repetitive sales pitches, and of course, the common bickering amongst grown men.

_Ah...smells like a home–_ the young man inhaled deeply, soaking up every bit of the site. This was perfect preparation for the venture into the busy boredom within the town gates. Alas, a welcoming voice swiftly pierced the common fuss that seeped into Java's flesh, and marinated within his innards.

"Hey! Zombie Fiend! Long time huh," the voice protruded Java's trance, sourcing from the right side of the giant door. A good number of meters away from the doorway, another young man leaned collectedly upon the wall, casually waving two fingers to gain J's attention.

"Ah, a familiar face," Java addressed, and with equal coolness, nodded in response, nearing the neutral figure, "and one of the only faces that can call me a 'Zombie Fiend–' or something of that manner."

Java neared the sleekly clad young man, rolling up his right coat sleeve, and revealing a long black shirt sleeve. Slowly leaving the solace of the wall, the young man made his way towards the approaching Java. He too began to roll up the right raincoat sleeve, revealing a long black shirt sleeve also. Our calm figure wore near-opposite attire from Java: long jet-black raincoat with bright white slacks and ankle boots. His complexion was coffee-brown, and he jaded stringy maroon locks of hair that had been blackening at the ends. He wore a decent build, and was nearly as tall, and seemingly as old as Java. Large round-lens shades ably rested on the young man's smirking face, as he and Java met, forearms crossed, sleeve-to-sleeve.

"J Black...the man that just _does not_ sleep," the young black-clad man lightly smiled, forearm crossed with his friend.

"Ah, Mercuito, my good man...the accomplice of my many vile deeds." Java replied with the usual satire. Both released their gesture, joyously shook hands, looked around at the presenting rabble, and chuckled at the convenience of their chance meeting and location.

"So," Java continued, "What brings _you_ to the fronts of _Transverse_ Town once again?"

"Memories–" Mercuito responded with a smirk of satire, "–just had a feeling that I needed to check up on the town, you know...the zoo that it has become, and all."

Java looked off into the adjacent outstretching lines of booths and sales counters that adorned and enclosed the town walls. He sighed and replied, "I guess–well I'm glad that you, at least, haven't joined the madness and reduced yourself to being one of the most annoying beings on the face of the earth..."

"What, salesmen?" Mercuito chuckled slightly and opened up his long coat, revealing the long black shirt and an array of potions and first aid items strapped within the insides of his coat, "Well–I still do services of healing–I just don't "advertise the talent" anymore, as you would assume...but I _do_ still make quite the number of sales every now and then...let's just say that I'm _always_ prepared to serve familiar customers. But I don't charge people that absolutely need _Cura_–"

"Yeah..." Java smirked unconvinced. Mercuito gave a light laugh aloud in response, placing his hands within the security of his coat pockets. He slowly looked up and gave the eternal night sky an empty gaze, "Well, at least I'm not running around town with you _lying to people_ about being a traveling healer with the secrets of _everlasting youth_ like we used to."

"Oh yeah, of course–one of your genius schemes that always get me near-arrested in the process–"

"Oh no," Mercuito averted his night-sky gaze, and jeeringly leered towards Java, "aside from you _coming up_ with all the scams, the reason why you were put under _house arrest_ for that scheme, and not "_send to jail_," as you like to dramatize, is because _someone_ decided to bum a drink from some wino in the third district, right in front of the constable I might add."

"Mercuito–" Java called. Mercuito's leer turned into an attentive gaze. Java stared vacantly at Mercuito, who was now containing his temptation to chuckle at Java's morbid expression; J questioned with a stoic tone, "–you don't forget a damn thing, do you?"

Mercuito unleashed a luminous smile, "That's because there never was a dull moment with us." Both young men released a final light harmonic chuckle that trailed off into an ensuing silent moment which consisted of shiftless gazes towards the Traverse Town entry, into the come-and-go crowd of people.

After a slight hesitance, Java addressed, still staring towards the leaving crowd of folks, "So...how's the sales and funding going? It's been a good two years since I've seen you; when I left with that fuel carrier guy on his _Invincible_."

Mercuito averted his gaze from the calamity of people, and fixated his sight downward upon the concrete ground, "Well, sales have become a lot better than I first expected they would...my uncle and I have parted ways for the time being–traveling solo now since I bought and customized my own Gummi Ship. _The Sable Sleek_; had it for a year now…didn't bring it here though; getting some repairs to it."

Java replied in response of the _Sable Sleek_, "Ah–I bought a ship recently, after saving up enough from a few odd-jobs: _Cuppa Joe_, ivory-colored of course–" Java briefly flaunted his cloak, "–kinda slow, but reliable at the least."

A harmless laugh escaped underneath Mercuito's breath as he wittingly responded, "Wait, are you describing the ship, or yourself?"

A stoic response from Java as he inattentively looked up towards the empty sky: "So–I see your sense of humor has diminished–but hey, I'm glad your cure-and-item sales business is doing well."

"Well, you know, I guess putting Traverse Town behind us was good for us. Yeah–leaving this small rock, and trying to support oneself in a respectable manner does its justice–" a slight silence ensued, then Mercuito addressed, "you know, a lot of people _are_ generally concerned with the well-being of people that have lost their worlds and seek refuge–"

Java inadvertently interrupted, "–and I'm glad that you're out doing something about it besides trying to sell your merchandise in front of this sleaze meeting ground like everyone else."

"Well–I really wouldn't put it that way," Mercuito glanced, and corrected attentively, "I'm guessing a lot of people mean to make a living, and they figure Traverse Town is as best a place as any. I mean, this is where many people end up when people's homes are taken--" Mercuito broke off swiftly, and then added a soft _yeah_ as the attentiveness of his gaze began to wander off.

The last part of Mercuito's speech lingered on, and Java gave a slight scowl of disgust, "_Right_—I'm glad you don't sugarcoat things Mercuito...end of the line for worlds—people make it here...but what I'm saying is: I'd rely on _you_ to at least care about people like us before I'd rely on any of them–"

"–no one cared too much for us because everyone has their own problems, however petty they may seem, and seriously, even being one of the unfortunates, I can only help but so much with time and munny. As much as the next person may mourn over their own losses, I'm going to wear myself out trying to help everyone else, J. I want to go home myself...anyways, people _will learn_ to help themselves. I guess the question is, _how do you overcome your own personal "darkness" and the "darkness" of others as well_."

Java couldn't help but to nod, "I agree…but at the very least, you _are_ trying to support those that are less fortunate...I myself, rather tell them what you just told me whilst waltzing around Gummi Space blindly, and instigating fights with quote-unquote grown men...and encounter the occasional Heartless for the hell of it…and now that I mention it, nowadays, the sight of a Heartless is rare..."

"Yeah...very true. I haven't got into too much of that myself. One slip up with heartless, and you're one of them. Pssh…I'll definitely let the proper authorities handle that one, Mr. Freelancer. The officials do almost too good of a job on securing the Light Paths, and protecting neighboring worlds–" Mercuito surrendered a small sigh, "–and still–people rather read about commercial events, or tragedies in the newspaper than help someone in need; they either don't see the Darkness as a threat, or they blissfully don't know anything about it–"

Java let out a mocking scoff, "_Ha_—and it's kinda sad considering that this whole "travel system _phenomena_" is supposed to be about working together, and _preventing_ worlds from falling, and only a handful of people at most, see this as a chance to end the threat of despair, you know? Rather than finding a place to dump refugees, I would expect people to want to prevent the making of them. Wishful thinking–of course."

Mercuito shot an astonished glance at the ranting, fidgety Java, and mockingly replied, "man…you really need some coffee…It's been a while since I've seen you this strung out…" Java and Mercuito fell into another small silence to discard the unease. Mercuito slipped his hands from his coat pockets, and slowly folded his arms across his chest while portraying a posture of light insecurity. He shrugged as he responded to Java's noticeable rave, "Well, that's why–we act on the behalf of ignorance, and _maybe_, just maybe our actions can educate some fools, eh– so–let's see, I _think_ that we gotten so tied up in conversation that I have forgotten to ask of _your_ activity as of late."

Java gave a light nod and shrug as he replied, "Oh, nothing; just recently emerging from a small rot-hole of a hotel in Rock Point…not as 'homey' as Traverse Town, but cheap nonetheless. Anyways, I heard from a former boss that a place in good ol' Traverse Town was starting to make a good cup of coffee, so I came running. How ironic is that? I'm just heading to the place that would always _put me down_ for a little pick-me-up."

Mercuito unleashed another shrug, "Ah. That explains it, but lines for coffee, or anything, are probably long today; the entrance has been busy all day–but hey, the highlight of the day: some cute little bus chick tried to sneak a wallet from some rude aristocrat slob–she was caught red-handed, and still left without anyone lifting a finger. It was _**great**_. Everyone went on like nothing happened–"

Java released a grin that appeared somewhat maniacal, perhaps from his naturally weary expression. He comically replied, "Ah–good stuff. A cute woman that's after the munny of fat rich guys, people that are too lazy to stop crime even if the crime was against _them_–glad to see that Traverse Town hasn't changed much." Mercuito fought a smile, and shook his head in regretful agreement. Java and Mercuito's attention converted toward the arriving _Charter_, emerging from Gummi Space, and preparing to make port at the stop.

"That you?" Java asked, watching people flood the stop as the Charter slowed to a stop, "I figured that since you're just waiting here, and the '_Sable Sleek's_' in shop–"

"Yep, right on the money, J–" Mercuito extended his hand towards Java, "Be easy, ok man?" He loosely added, "—_and get some sleep!_"

"Sleep?! Never–but _being easy_?" Java strongly grabbed and shook the hand of his friend, "of course; always. You–don't stress too much, and say 'hey' to Wervin for me."

Mercuito nodded and embraced the handshake, "Stress? Wow; do I ever?" He grinned as he replied, "I guess being level-headed is one thing that we'll always have in common."

"We have more than that in common." Java face curved a sincere heart-felt smile.

Mercuito's face grew sincere as well, "You're right, and that is why we do what we're doing, huh." Mercuito let go of Java's hand, and waved with two fingers as he began to back away. He briskly jogged towards the waiting _Charter_. Java watched morbidly as Mercuito barely stumbled aboard the departing ship.

Java mumbled, "I needed that...take care of yourself, man." Java scratched underneath his hood, and lazily made his way toward the busy entrance of Traverse Town.

fade It Began with a Letter


End file.
